


Long Distance

by azryal



Series: Travellers [5]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 08:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1851139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azryal/pseuds/azryal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The phone can only do so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Distance

**Author's Note:**

> Includes bits from "Provider" 3x12 and "Sleep Tight" 3x16

"'Lo?"

"Obscene phone call. Will you accept charges?"

"Lorne?"

"And who else would be calling you at this hour of the morning? What is it over there, three? Four?"

"Uhhhh....four-fifteen. Is something wrong?"

"Well, not any more than the last time we talked. Oh, I got knocked unconscious and tied up tonight. Too bad you weren't here to reap the benefits of that."

“What happened? Jesus! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just a little achy and missing the sound of your voice."

"I hope that's not all you're missing."

"Not even close, counselor. Do you need a list?"

"Hmmm, best not. The last time we started that we were on the phone for two hours."

"Ah, but it was fun, wasn't it? You working tomor- today?"

"Yeah, I have a day gig at an outdoor oyster bar. It's a nice change of pace, being out in the sun."

"I don't suppose you saw much of that out here, either, did you?”

"Only through tinted glass."

"No one gets up here till noon or so. Well, now it's whenever the baby gets up."

…

"I'm sorry, Lindsey. I know you don't want to talk about that."

"No, it's okay. I'm...dealing with it."

"Dealing with it?"

"I'm not drinking, if that's what you're wondering. I'm going to a Zen temple down in the Warehouse District. It's...educational."

…

"Are you still there?"

"Of course, I just hope...well, I hope that means this long distance crap is coming to an end."

"You know... you don't HAVE to stay there... with him."

"What, pass up free room and board?"

"That's the thing, Lorne, it's not free. I'd say you've paid your shot. You've been paying."

"We've talked about this, Lindsey. You know I can't leave."

"I thought you were supposed to be neutral, not on anyone's side. Wasn't that the plan?"

"You know as well as I do that sometimes you're forced into choices. At least this one, I can live with."

…

"I know you're still there. I hear that heartbreaking sigh, and you can just stop it now. He needs me, Lindsey. THEY need me."

"What if I need you?"

"You know that if you needed me I would be there in an instant.  You also know that there's a lot more going on here than just adventures in babysitting. This is a child, an innocent child who needs as much protection as he can get. I can't just leave them.”

"You can't leave them and I can't come back."

"At the moment, it's the way it is."

"Yeah, yeah. I don't have to be happy about it."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad you're not happy about it! It means you care."

…

"Come on, Lindsey. This won't be forever."

"Lorne, you know as well as I do that he'll never let me set foot in his precious hotel, much less fuck around with you in one of his beds."

"Wait...erotic fantasy time...HIS bed..."

"Lorne!"

"Sorry, it's just I never had the chance to do it in my parent's bed. Doing it in Angel's bed, that might make up for it."

"You are so strange."

"It's one of the reasons you love me."

"Yeah, just one of them. I miss you."

…

"Lorne?"

"I'm here. I just...I miss you, too. It hurts my heart, not being there."

"But, duty calls."

"Something like that."

"You know, if you need me...Wolfram and Hart AND Angel can kiss my ass."

"Angel might. Lilah would set up house. You'd be constipated for the rest of your life. There's this new guy, too..."

"Lorne?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up and talk dirty to me."

 

One Month Later

 

“Lindsey?”

“Lorne? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, God, Lindsey. It’s all gone to hell.”

“Talk to me, Lorne. What’s happened?”

“Connor…”

“Lorne! What is it?”

“Sorry…my head hurts…”

“Lorne, please tell me. Are you okay?”

“No, Lin, I don’t think any of us will ever be okay again. Connor’s gone.”

“What? Gone! Gone how?”

…

“Lorne, please talk to me. You have to tell me what happened!”

“I’m sorry, Lindsey. I can’t think straight right now. I can’t…”

“What happened?”

“It was…Wesley took him. Angel…I don’t know what’s going to happen how.”

“Wesley? Why in the hell would Wesley do something like that?”

“I can’t talk about it right now, Lindsey! Please…”

“Fine. You can tell me about it when I get there.”

“No! Lindsey, don’t…”

 

Twenty-four hours later.

 

The day is still a while off. I can’t sleep. I know no one else can, but they’ve all gone away. Here is too close to the pain, to the emptiness.

Everyone’s gone to other places to deal, but Angel hasn’t got anywhere else to go. He’s sitting on the couch in the dark, dark lobby. He holds a blue fleecy blanket, still smelling of formula and spit-up and that unique smell of infant human. He rubs it on his face, staring off into the far corner.

We all have that little memory, that thing that suddenly cuts you when you realize you won’t get it anymore. A warm, wiggly body to clutch, the brush of downy hair on your chin, soft breath across your cheek…my personal favorite was the little satisfied sigh he used to make after he sneezed.  I try not to dwell on it, but it’s one of the few things in life that’s nearly impossible to let go of. Connor wasn’t mine; I can’t possibly feel what Angel is feeling. I loved the little bite just the same, as much as Fred or Gunn or Cordelia.

My judgment is still out on Wesley.

I have never been so confused, or hurt, even when Angel was ignoring me or getting me broken horns and blown up homes. Wes…do you know I’m probably going to have a mark on my temple for the rest of my life? Not to mention my heart…and Angel’s.

That may be the worst of it all. I miss the glow that followed Angel; it came from his every pore, his every breath. The pure light of his love and his joy saturated the place.  It makes the black despair that surrounds him now all the more painful. It also makes me nearly want to kill Wes myself.

I’ve been watching Angel sit there, staring, for a long time. There are no words that could possibly help. There is nothing I could possibly do to ease his soul. I never dreamed how hard this could be, unable to give comfort, unable to even give advice. What would I say? It’ll go away? I know it won’t go away. It will never go away. I do the only thing I can; I watch him for any sign of…of anything, at this point. He’s been sitting there for around six hours now, holding that blanket and doing nothing. His stillness is frightening.

There’s a lifting of the gloom, a slight change in the non-light that says “Dawn’s coming.” I look to the beautiful glass doors to see them turn silver as the sky brightens. Just as they begin to redden, to absorb and soften the coming of the sun, a shadow falls across it. It stands motionless for a moment, then two, and lengthens towards the stairs as the light grows more and more golden.

The poetry of the moment isn’t lost on me as the owner of that shadow enters the lobby. If I believed in omens, and I do, I’d say that this might be a small point of light in all this black.

From my perch on the second level, I watch as Angel ignores the person moving slowly towards him. There’s a pause, to lower a ratty old suitcase to the floor, then he removes his baseball cap. He brushes his longish locks out of his face, and then continues his slow approach. I don’t say anything, or move at all. The voyeur in me won’t let me ruin this moment.

I’ve waited for this meeting for months. So sad that it had to be over this.

“Angel,” he says, and it’s so good to hear that voice for real, not shrunken and transistorized.

Angel actually responds. His head turns towards the call, and says, in a surprised way, “Lindsey? What are you doing here?”

“I was just passin’,” Lindsey replies. He stops a few feet in front of Angel, nearly within arm’s reach.

They consider each other in silence; Lindsey has brought the morning sun with him and it shines on his skin and his hair and makes Angel squint when he looks at him. 

“Did you come to gloat?” Angel asks.

Lindsey shakes his head. “You always think the worst of me, don’t you?”

After a moment, Angel speaks. “Would you have done this to me, Lindsey?”

Without hesitation, Lindsey answers, “No. There are things that even I won’t do.”

“That’s probably why you lost,” Angel says, bluntly. Before Lindsey can get angry, he continues, “Ironic, isn’t it? My friend, my closest friend, would do to me what my sworn enemy wouldn’t. Ironic.”

“Well, you know, I’ve always had a soft spot for kids,” Lindsey says, his awkwardness becoming more apparent. The line of conversation is unsettling to him; he starts to shift from foot to foot, uneasy.

“I thought I knew love once,” Angel begins, but lets the thought go unfinished. After another long moment of silence he starts again. “I thought I knew hate, too. I had no idea what hate really was.” He looks up into Lindsey’s face now, plaintive, pitiful. “I don’t think I can hate you anymore, Lindsey. I just don’t have any left.”

Lindsey nods, and almost smiles. “That’s okay. I can live with the disappointment.”

Who would have thought that Lindsey would be the one to make Angel laugh? It wasn’t a real laugh, more like a broken cough, but the almost-smile is reflected on his face. It falters in the next second, returning to its anguished appeal.

Lindsey is moved, despite himself. “What can I do?”

I barely hear it, when Angel answers, but I see the surprise on Lindsey’s face clear enough. “Come closer,” is the quiet reply. It takes real courage on his part to step closer to a grieving vampire, and Lindsey does it with uncertainty. He stops just beside Angel’s feet, out of the sunlight but still warm and sweet smelling. Mouth tense, trembling, Angel reaches out and puts his hands on Lindsey’s waist. He sits forward, causing Lindsey to jump, but neither one separates. Angel presses is face into the soft, warm cloth covering Lindsey’s stomach and inhales deeply. As he exhales, the sobs come, echoing in the emptiness of the chamber.

It was nothing I expected. I stand there and cry with him, watching as Lindsey begins to tentatively stroke Angel’s hair. I can’t quite believe what I see, but I believe this; something essential has changed in my lover. Lindsey comforts him and I watch his aura as he croons wordlessly in his consolation. I can see how far he has come. It reminds me of how far we all have to go.

 


End file.
